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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249172">Collapse My Veins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rsbry_Beret/pseuds/Rsbry_Beret'>Rsbry_Beret</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>5+1 Things, Angst and Fluff, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Confession, Fluff, Get Together, I promise it’s fluffier than it seems, M/M, Pan Character, Tobin-centric, ace Tobin, background Leif/Joan, implied off-screen homophobia, pan Tobin, some internalized acephobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:13:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rsbry_Beret/pseuds/Rsbry_Beret</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Tobin pretended and one time he realized he didn’t need to.</p><p>(Rated T for swearing)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tobin Batra/Leif Donnelly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Collapse My Veins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from It’s Not Living (if it’s not with you) by The 1975</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>1.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of these days, Tobin really </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to get an email from HR.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was- Tobin was a lot of things. He was brash and loud and obnoxious and ingenious and confident and a whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>plethora</span>
  </em>
  <span> of adjectives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He read the workplace harassment clause of the employee handbook. He knew that some of the stuff he said very clearly toed the line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just. Well. It was just that Tobin knew what was expected of a guy like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He knew what people had thought of him in Highschool, when he only hung out with Leif, and he was overenthusiastic talking to guys during gym class, and when they found out that he actually went to the school plays, and… there was nothing wrong with being gay. Tobin wasn’t gay, he was pan, even if he didn’t know that then, but even in Highschool he knew there wasn’t anything wrong with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody else got the memo, though, was the problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Tobin really wasn’t sure how to say, out loud, that he didn’t want things that other people wanted. He wasn’t sure if they’d think he was more of a freak than they might already. A guy who was interested in all genders was one thing. A guy who wasn’t interested </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span> in certain… </span>
  <em>
    <span>aspects </span>
  </em>
  <span>of attraction was another altogether. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tobin had been ostracized for less. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So if Tobin adjusted his attitude to avoid certain </span>
  <em>
    <span>altercations</span>
  </em>
  <span>, fine. It wasn’t a big deal. People did that sort of stuff all the time- there was no way Joan was really that way with her friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She probably was, actually. Bad example. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The point was, Work-Tobin and Actual-Tobin were two different people, and if that was the way it had to be, then that was the way it had to be. Tobin had had problems in workplace environments before, with things like </span>
  <em>
    <span>assumptions</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggestions</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>friendly comments about his lifestyle,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and a little pretending was worth not having to deal with that again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there were only so many sex jokes he could make before someone in HR reached the end of their rope. Probably Jason. Jason was an asshole, albeit one who actually did his job. Maybe <em>because</em> he actually did his job, on second thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey slumped at her desk, resting her head in her hands morosely. “This is too </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she whined at the computer, and before Tobin even realized he was opening his mouth…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what she said.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey lifted her head to glare at him. “Jesus Christ, Tobin, can you go two minutes without thinking about sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin tried to ignore the gross feeling in his stomach, just shrugged and turned back to his laptop, opening and closing tabs to look busy while he blinked away the weird lump in his throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>2.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin wasn’t sure how he got himself in these situations. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked across the cafe table at Grace, who seemed like a nice enough girl (she wanted to be a veterinarian, she played piano, she had a dog named Bowser, which, awesome) and tried to pretend like he wasn’t itching to fake a phone call and leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grace purposefully put her hand in the middle of the table, an invitation, and Tobin tried not to ignore it in a way that was too obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> nice, that was the thing. Grace was pretty, and smart enough to be pursuing medicine, and she told jokes that made Tobin snort on his laughter before it came out of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Grace clearly liked Tobin, too. She giggled at his jokes, and made eye contact for a second too long, and her hand was right there in the middle of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem was, Tobin had seen the way she had looked at him when he walked in, how she focused on his thighs and his arms. He had seen the way she cocked her head a little to the side with a coy smile, the same look people always got when they wanted something from him that he wasn’t willing to give. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grace clearly had expectations about where their evening date was going, and Tobin didn’t want to lead her on, so he did what he always did- start acting like an asshole until she got uninterested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grace nudged her hand forward a little more, cracked a bit about Star Wars, and Tobin just stirred his drink with his straw, staring into the space next to the barista’s head. With any luck, Grace would think-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you checking out the barista while on a date with me?” She pulled her hand back. Thank God. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin didn’t say anything, which he knew would be answer enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grace grabbed her purse and left in a huff, throwing a ten dollar bill onto the table before she left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn, she tipped, too. She really was a good person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin sighed, going back to staring at nothing. It was for the best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>3.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spellaversary was sacred. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spellaversary was for just Leif and Tobin, only the two of them. Everyone else, they were just extra. They were there to make it fun, loud, obnoxiously over the top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But all spellaversary really needed was the two of them. That was the point. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>theirs</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin tried to stop thinking about it, watching from across the bar as Leif danced with his college roommates’ sisters’ whoever, or maybe with someone who hadn’t even come with them to celebrate, someone who was already there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dancing was a kind word for it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin tried not to think about how tonight was supposed to be for </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span> as Leif grinded on somebody across the room. It was more difficult than ideal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, Tobin stumbled to his feet and walked to the bathroom, throwing a stall door open and locking it shit behind him before falling to his knees in front of the toilet, almost sure he was going to throw up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He panted, trying to ignore the smell of shit and sex and alcohol, which only made the wriggling in his gut </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif would rather have sex with a stranger than sit next to Tobin and just talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just</span>
  </em>
  <span> talk. Why couldn't the verb ‘talk’ be all on its own, not downgraded to ‘just’ when compared to-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like it was a surprise. Tobin </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Leif liked sex. He knew that they were at a shitty bar and that, generally speaking, sex was the reason people came to this bar in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin had just hoped, in some corner of his mind- believed, even- that Leif preferred talking to Tobin over sex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin breathed hopelessly down at the toilet bowl. There was a stain in the shape of Italy that he couldn’t look away from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually Tobin stood, opened the door and splashed some sink water at his face, avoided looking in the mirror because he knew, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he knew,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that if he looked at himself right now then he wouldn’t go back out there. And Tobin had to go out there, to pretend to be happy that Leif was leaving with somebody else, to pretend that he was planning on doing the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He left the bathroom in time to see Leif the building, tipsy brunette hanging off of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no one to pretend for, then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin left to get a burger. </span>
</p><p> </p><ol>

</ol><p>
  <span>Tobin had just gotten comfortable on the living room floor in front of the tv when Leif burst through the front door, loud and extravagant and everything he pretended not to be in front of everyone else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif started talking rapidly, which was normally fine except Tobin had sort of, maybe, just been hit with the earth-shattering epiphany that he was in love with his best friend in the entire universe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His best friend who was bi, yeah, but firmly on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexual </span>
  </em>
  <span>side, not just romantic. His best friend who Tobin trusted more than anyone, who he told everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>except that he didn’t want to have-</span>
  </em>
  <span> whatever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was never- he was doomed from the start. Leif Donnelly was captivating, and Tobin Batra was in orbit, and there was nothing he could do but wait it out, because Leif </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> sex. He liked it a lot, which Tobin knew because he also </span>
  <em>
    <span>talked</span>
  </em>
  <span> about it a lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So even if Leif did like Tobin back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> him back, even, it was never going to work, because Leif would want things that Tobin wasn’t willing to give. That he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>give. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin snapped back to attention when he felt Leif’s hand on his shoulder. He was staring at him concernedly, and Tobin realized that Leif had been talking this whole time and he wasn’t even paying attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, are you crying?” Leif asked, and that was when Tobin realized he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just… dust. Keep talking, man, it’s fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Leif did, kept talking and talking, about Joan now, how hot she was and how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was, whatever that meant, because Tobin had said it was dust and why wouldn’t it be?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>5.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey approached Tobin during his lunch break, which was already weird enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally Leif and Tobin ate lunch together, but Leif was </span>
  <em>
    <span>eating with Joan today</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he had said with a wink, and Tobin had smiled and hadn’t been able to stop, could still feel it glued to his face like it would be stuck there forever, awful and strained and, apparently, believable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey had leaned the side of her hip against Tobin’s desk where he was eating his bagel, had lowered her eyebrows in what seemed like an approximation of empathy, and Tobin had immediately been on guard, because behind the kindness was something calculating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tobin,” she said, voice soft and private, and Tobin wasn’t really sure what to say back, so he just nodded, measured, and hoped she would go away </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t. “So, I’ve had this song stuck in my head since I got into work this morning, and I was wondering if you knew what it was called?” She laughed, awkward and fake and Tobin didn’t know why she was lying, but she clearly was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I guess,” he answered eventually. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great!” Zoey clapped her hands together, like she was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy that Tobin might know the name of a song, and he felt lost. What was happening?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, so, the lyrics,” she said. “Uhm. Something like… ‘I don’t want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin froze. She looked at him, watching for something, and seemed to find it. Shit. “It’s Somebody Else. By The 1975.” What else could he say? Clearly she knew… something, and was trying to blackmail him, or reach out, in that weird way if hers, and maybe it was meant in a kind way but mostly Tobin just felt like he might hyperventilate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey was still looking at him, and he purposefully turned back to his lunch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoey knew he liked Leif, then. She probably also knew he didn’t want to sleep with him. It was a weird way to tell him that she knew, but then again, Tobin had gotten the message, so clearly it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> weird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Zoey replies eventually, still stalling. Tobin didn’t bother adding anything. He knew that if she had more to say, she’d just say it. “Tobin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up, just to the left of her eyes, tried to remember to breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tobin,” she started again, looking awkward but sure of herself, competent but still reserved, and Tobin got why she was promoted and why everyone seemed to like her so much but right now, he mostly wanted her to leave. “You know that, whatever your sexuality, I support you, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really wanted to cry. It was weird, to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> tempted to just curl up and lean on Zoey Clarke, of all people, but she was saying all the right things and Tobin had spent so much time </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>crying that maybe he just needed to be open, to talk to someone, and then he’d feel better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He straightened his shoulders, looked Zoey in the eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>+1.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin and Leif had been cooking dinner together- pasta, because they were both lazy- when Leif turned to face Tobin and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was in love with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Tobin dropped the colander on the floor and it made a long noise, rolling to a slow stop when it hit the fridge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in love with you,” Leif repeated, and he looked nervous but not scared. He looked like he was on the edge of something and he trusted that he wasn’t going to fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin tried not to be jealous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin tried to figure out this whole ‘love’ thing, instead. “Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif stared at Tobin. Tobin stared at the colander before picking it up and putting it in the sink, and then Tobin just stood in front of the sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Leif eventually broke the silence, “I get it if you don’t feel the same way. Really. I just needed to tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin turned around and there Leif was, shuffling his feet and in love with Tobin, apparently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. No, I love you too,” Tobin breathed, pushing forward before he realized what he was doing, standing right in front of him. “I love you so much, but not- not the way you want me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif tried not to look hurt and failed miserably, eyes turning down at the corners. “As friends, you mean. You- love me, but you’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Tobin lifted his hand and set it on Leif’s shoulder, concentrating hard. It felt so heavy. “No, I’m in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath for longer than just that conversation. Forever, maybe. “Good. That’s- good, then. Okay.” Leif leaned in for a kiss, and Tobin leaned back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s- it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not good!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He turned his head away from Leif, staring hopelessly at the pot of pasta, stove still not even turned on yet. “I love you like… like I want to hold your hand and watch your stupid documentaries with you, and like I want to see your bed head before you get up and fix it, and like I want to keep falling more in love with you every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leif’s voice broke the silence, lost, hopeful. “That sounds… </span>
  <em>
    <span>good,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tobin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t want sex.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he had said the word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause. Well, there it was. Tobin had told him, and the rest was up to Leif, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Leif lifted his hand up, dragging Tobin’s hand off of his shoulder and holding it tight between the two of them. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tobin reluctantly turned back to look at him, and saw Leif with his big doe eyes and ruffled hair and he looked sad, yes, but mostly like he was trying to understand something important.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean I don’t want sex with you, now or ever. I don’t want sex with anyone.” His voice was shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” And he didn’t sound like Tobin’s uncle, or Sadie Murphy from calculus, or Benjamin from the coffee shop. He didn’t sound like he wanted Tobin to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, I’m not sure, please have sex with me so I’ll change my mind</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He sounded like he just wanted an answer. Whatever answer Tobin wanted to tell him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Tobin smiled at Leif, awkward but genuine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Leif smiled, softly, back. “Okay. Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, kissing’s okay. But- uhm. You’re sure you’re okay with not having sex? Like. I don’t think I’m okay with you having sex with other people, and I get it if that’s a dealbreaker for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure.” Leif was grinning now, and Tobin realized belatedly that he was too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at each other for a second before pushing in at once, uncoordinated and awful. Their noses hit together and their lips barely even brushed, and Leif- Leif just giggled, maniacal, like there wasn’t any other reaction he could have, and Tobin smiled at him, because laughing-Leif was his favorite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Leif held Tobin’s hand tighter, and didn’t let go, not while they finished making dinner, not once that whole night, not until they were both fast asleep, curled around each other tight.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ohoho!! It’s more of me projecting onto fictional characters :)<br/>Which brings me to the million dollar question- do I think Tobin is ace? And to that I say...... idk man maybe. Like. He could be idk. It’d sure be neat if he was. <br/>People who comment are literally amazing, when I take over the government in a few years, y’all shall be members of the Committee Of Making Things Not Suck (that’s what I’ll call the new, functioning government)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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